


The One With The Stress Baking

by bohemeyourself



Series: Rollergirls [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Always the Opposite Sex, Cuddles, F/F, Fluff, baths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-28 23:18:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bohemeyourself/pseuds/bohemeyourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer is a stress baker. Has always been, and probably will always be. She likes making things whenever she’s in a crappy mood, because it’s always better to create than destroy. Or create and THEN destroy. God, she really needs to stop hanging out with Ryan so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With The Stress Baking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hermette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermette/gifts).



Spencer is a stress baker. Has always been, and probably will always be. She likes making things whenever she’s in a crappy mood, because it’s always better to create than destroy. Or create and THEN destroy. God, she really needs to stop hanging out with Ryan so much.

“Something smells good.” Brendon says, shutting the door to their (THEIR, OH MY GOD) apartment and dropping her keys into the bowl.

“Marble cake.” Spencer says. Brendon appears at her elbow. “Wash your hands first, other people are going to be eating this, for fuck’s sake.” Spencer grabs Brendon’s wrist when she goes for the ganache, dropping a kiss onto her pout.

Brendon washes her hands, and actually uses a spoon to steal a taste of the cake’s topping. “Needs more chocolate.” She says.

“It always needs more chocolate, in your opinion.”

Brendon shrugs. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are you just going to bake things all night?”

Back in Brendon’s old apartment, they only had a couple of dented cookie sheets, and so when they were freaking out over college applications Spencer had made at least four batches of cookies, which they were giving out to people for ages. Brendon had stayed up with her all night until all of the cookies had been baked, filling most of the secondhand tupperware Brendon had in the drawer.

Spencer sighs. She hates it when Brendon figures her out like that. “Just, finals, I guess.”

“You guess?” Brendon prompts. She wraps her arms around Spencer, propping her between Brendon and the counter.

“Yeah, I think.” Spencer rests her head on Brendon’s shoulder, finally giving in to her cuddles. “I dunno, just, finals and they’ve got me scheduled for thirty-five hours next week, and I just started my period, and fuck, I’m just- ugh”

“Tired, worn out.” Brendon finishes for her. Brendon makes a sympathetic noise. “Why didn’t you request time off?”

Spencer straightens to fix her with a look.

“Okay, I get it. Time for Brendon to shut up.” Spencer’s head drops back to Brendon’s shoulder, and she rubs over her back in wide soothing arcs. “How about a bath and a massage, hmm?”

“But-”

“The cake can wait, Spencer.” she tugs on Spencer’s hands, leading her from the kitchen and into the bathroom. Brendon sits Spencer on the closed toilet lid and maneuvers around her, running the water and loading it up with bubbles and bath salts. She strips them both and gets them situated in the tub, Spencer leaning back against Brendon’s chest.

Spencer smiles when Brendon reaches for the massage oil, the one with the rose petals floating in it. Spencer had once thought Brendon was wasting her money on frivolous bath products, but she’s starting to rethink her stance against Lush. Brendon works over her shoulders, down the middle of her back where she carries most of her stress, her fingers digging into all the knots and tight spots. Brendon works her way back up to her shoulders and down her arms until Spencer’s boneless and sighing against her.

Spencer makes a happy noise when Brendon starts nosing down her neck, nipping lightly at her ear. “Will you let me wash your hair?”

Uh, yeah. “Like you have to ask.” She says, and feels like she should be embarrassed at how her words are slurred slightly. Whatever, like Brendon doesn’t already know she gives excellent massages. And excellent other stuff, but that has to wait. Fucking Shark Week.

Brendon wets her hair with fresh water from the tap and works the shampoo into her scalp. The new stuff she picked up smells like roses too. “I’m on a rose kick, right now.” Brendon says.

Brendon’s fingers massage over her scalp as carefully and methodically as they had over her back, gentle now against Spencer’s temples. “I don’t think you’ll like it if I actually fall asleep on you.” She warns. Brendon’s chest vibrates against her back when she laughs.

“I wouldn’t mind so much, at least at first. But you’re cranky when I wake you up, so no...” Brendon fills the cup with fresh water to rinse her hair. “You need the sleep, though.”

“True,” Spencer had thought she hadn’t disturbed Brendon when she got out of bed at three yesterday morning to work on her German Literature paper. Apparently she was wrong. “Thank you,” she sighs, turning her face so she can kiss Brendon.

Brendon kisses her back, loving and so, so gentle. Spencer is the luckiest girl on the planet. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Brendon returns, grinning. “Any chance you love me enough to get me off before we go to bed?”

Spencer snorts. “Keep massaging, I’ll think about it.”

Which is as good as a yes.


End file.
